


Waking Up

by Allemande



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But everything is canon except that Remus survived, Friends to Lovers, Impulsive Harry, Insightful Harry, M/M, Post-Order of the Phoenix AU, Remus Lupin Lives, Sirius Black Comes Back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allemande/pseuds/Allemande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years after the end of the war, Hermione finds a way to bring Sirius back from the not-so-dead. Harry realizes when he sees them together that Sirius and Remus weren't really ever just friends. When they start acting awkwardly around each other, not least because Remus now has a boyfriend, Harry takes matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally had this fic (or a hundred versions of it) inside my head for years. I think it needs to come out now and see the light of day, not least so I can finally make room for some new stories. ;-)
> 
> So as it says in the tags, this is an AU only insofar as Remus and Tonks never got together, and didn't die. Everything else (apart from the '19 years later' bit, which I think my version differs from) should be canon.
> 
> Enjoy!

Harry Potter and Remus Lupin stood side by side in the Department of Mysteries, watching Hermione Granger. She was moving around the dais that stood in the middle of the room in concentric circles, muttering under her breath, and both men had to admit to themselves that this magic was far beyond them.  
  
“God, she’s good,” said Remus, breaking a long, rather tense silence.  
  
Harry smiled.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“You all right?”  
  
Harry turned to him, trying to convey how he felt in one look. Remus smiled, a nervous, tight-lipped smile, and nodded. “Fair enough.”  
  
Harry wasn’t quite sure how they’d arrived at this point. Well, he knew how it had started. But things had been pretty hazy ever since Hermione had turned up on his doorstep five weeks ago, saying she had big news.  


* * *

  
He and Ginny had both thought she was pregnant, or engaged, or both. But while Ginny was still eyeing her suspiciously as she sipped on a glass of wine, Harry realized this wasn’t private Hermione: this was official, business Hermione, the Hermione many were calling “one of the greatest witches of the modern age”.  
  
It was that thrilled just-found-something-in-a-book look about her.  
  
“Harry,” she began, and he knew she was working very, very hard not to stumble over her words in her excitement, “I found something about the Department of Mysteries.”  
  
“About the –” he’d stopped. He hadn’t really counted on ever having to think, let alone talk about that place again. He’d last set foot in it six years ago. He’d done his best to forget about the details of what had happened there.  
  
“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione said, laying a hand on his arm. “I’d spare you if I could. Believe me, I went over this again and again before I came to you. I’m still not sure I’m right, mind you.”  
  
He sighed inwardly. “Go on then.”  
  
“I was researching the Department of Mysteries for a project,” she continued. “It’s all very poorly documented, of course. Some of that is intentional, no doubt, but I think some of it is also incompetence.” She pursed her lips disapprovingly, and Harry and Ginny shared an amused look.  
  
“But I recently came across this book, very old, very weather-worn, some of it was barely legible, it was written by this brilliant wizard named Orchideus Flatterley, quite ingenious really the ways he thought of to get to information kept secret by the Ministry... ahem.”  
  
Hermione must have realized she was rambling again, because she looked apologetic. “Anyway, I found a bit on the... well, that archway with the black veil.”  
  
Harry swallowed hard. An image rose unbidden in his mind, one he had tried hard to forget.  
  
Ginny squeezed his hand.  
  
“Orchideus,” Hermione pressed on, “found information on the veil that I have since been able to corroborate through other sources.” (Whenever Hermione talked about her research these days, she sounded like a book.)  
  
“Basically, the way he describes it, there are different things that can happen when somebody goes through that veil.”  
  
Ginny leant forward. “What different things?”  
  
Harry loved the fact that Ginny always knew precisely when he needed her to do the talking.  
  
“Most people who went through... well, died,” Hermione said in a slightly smaller voice. “But a few people, throughout the course of history, it appears, didn’t. And Orchideus described how to distinguish those from the others.”  
  
As Hermione went on to describe how exactly the veil supposedly behaved on the different occasions, Harry stared at her.  


* * *

  
It was very still now. Not a single flutter disturbed the folds of the tattered-looking cloth. Harry found his eyes drawn to it continually, even though he kept trying to look away. It was almost as though the veil spoke by not speaking.  
  
He chanced a glance at Remus again. His former teacher was white as a sheet, staring at Hermione, who was now standing in front of the veil, her hands raised as though in prayer to the heavens.  
  
Harry hadn’t seen Remus like this ever since he’d told him about Hermione’s discovery.  


* * *

  
Remus had just returned from his first tutorial with a new private student. He’d been making himself a cup of tea, his mind still full of his two hours with Robert and the subsequent discussion with Robert’s parents, when Harry had knocked on his door.  
  
“How’s your teaching?” Harry asked as they were seated at the kitchen table, a pot of tea between them. “Your success rate with Squibs is supposed to be phenomenal.”  
  
Remus shrugged, smiling a little, the only modest acknowledgement of the compliment he would allow. “I think we categorize some people too soon.”  
  
Harry nodded darkly, no doubt thinking about what his life would have been like had he not shown any magical ability at eleven years of age.  
  
“I had a new student this afternoon,” Remus added. “Not a so-called Squib, but a young werewolf.”  
  
“Oh,” said Harry, but it wasn’t one of those awful ‘oh’s that Remus had come to despise. It was an ‘oh’ full of compassion and interest and desire to hear more.  
  
“Bitten in the last weeks of Voldemort’s height of power.”  
  
“Fenrir Greyback?” Harry guessed, and Remus nodded. Harry narrowed his eyes. “Good thing you got that bloody bastard in the end.”  
  
Remus frowned, still not used to hearing Harry swear, and Harry smiled grimly, evidently pleased that he’d rattled him.  
  
Their relationship had evolved quite a bit since Harry had been his student eight years ago, Remus thought. In fact, it sometimes reminded him of his friendship with Lily.  
  
“So this young boy –” said Harry.  
  
“Robert. He used to be at Hogwarts, after my time, though.” Remus took a sip from his tea. “His parents must have heard of me.”  
  
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be a great Hogwarts substitute for him,” Harry smiled.  
  
“If there is such a thing,” Remus agreed.  
  
“Remus,” said Harry, and suddenly Remus saw that there was something big weighing on Harry’s mind. By God he was good at keeping things to himself.  
  
He listened quietly as Harry told him what Hermione had found.  
  
“I know what you’re going to say,” Harry said when Remus remained quiet. “It’s extremely unlikely that she’s right and we’d better just... well, keep things as they are.”  
  
Remus looked up. “You don’t know me so well after all, Harry.” He knew he must look terrible, seeing the way Harry was staring at him, and as he ran a hand over his face, he realized how badly his hand was shaking.  
  
“If there’s even a slight chance to... get Sirius back... especially if Hermione thinks there is – then of course we should try it.”  


* * *

  
The gist of Hermione’s discovery, thought Remus as he watched her raise her wand again and point it directly at the veil, had been first of all that those who had died going through the veil had died before they went through; and second of all, that the veil had taken on a different colour the moment a person had gone through. Hermione had read several accounts describing the veil glowing a red, violet or purple colour, and sometimes emitting an eerie kind of sound, the moment somebody fell through.  
  
Sirius, however, had only been Stunned by Bellatrix – Remus and Harry were sure of this – and the veil had done nothing at all when he had fallen through. No colour, no sound, just a slight ripple, and Sirius was gone.  
  
Remus was finding it increasingly hard to swallow. It was madness, trying this. They were cutting their hearts open, Harry, he, and even Hermione, just by attempting this, and it would not work, and they would go back home, still alone, trying to get through their days once more.  
  
He took another look at Harry and was on the verge of reaching out to him when Hermione suddenly raised her voice.  
  
“ _Somnis revoco Sirius Black!_ ” she called in a booming voice, and there was a bang, a blinding bright light and a rush of wind which threw all three of them onto their backs.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on his back, facing the ceiling high above. He took a moment to remember where he was.  
  
When he did remember, he scrambled upwards at light-speed, and his heart stopped.  
  
Remus was getting to his feet next to him. Hermione was lying a few feet away, between them and the veil. And behind her –  
  
“Harry,” said Remus, grabbing his arm and holding him back. “Remember what we said.”  
  
Right. Harry steeled himself. The man lying at the foot of the dais, with a long black cloak and long dark hair, was not necessarily Sirius Black; there was a possibility that he was an otherworldly spirit, an imitation, a cruel trick sent up or down from wherever he had been.  
  
“Hermione?” Remus called. She stirred. The man behind her still didn’t.  
  
Slowly, Harry and Remus moved forwards, keeping their eyes on the man lying face down, and helped Hermione up.  
  
“Ow,” she said, facing them, grabbing her head. “That was some backlash.” Her eyes widened, and she spun around and gasped. “Oh my –”  
  
Suddenly, they were all talking at the same time.  
  
“He’s not moving.”  
  
“Do you think he’s –”  
  
“Oh God, what if he’s –”  
  
“Is that even –”  
  
“Stunning Spell,” Hermione said clearly, and Harry and Remus turned to her. “You said Bellatrix Stunned him before he fell.”  
  
“Hermione, you really are a genius,” Remus smiled, although Harry saw that he was barely keeping it together behind that facade. “Listen to us rattling on.”  
  
“Shall I –” she said, glancing questioningly at Harry.  
  
Harry nodded. He was very happy to leave thinking and acting entirely to her, right now.  
  
She drew them both backwards with her, away from the archway, until they were several feet away from the figure lying on the floor in front of them. Harry looked at Remus, who looked back at him. He saw the same naked fear, and wild hope, in the other man’s eyes.  
  
“ _Enervate_ ,” said Hermione quietly, her wand pointed at the figure.  
  
The black-cloaked man stirred. Slowly, in what felt like an eternity, he pulled himself upright.  
  
Harry, feeling his heart thumping in his throat, heard Remus breathe in sharply.  
  
“Her- Hermione,” the man said. “Harry – Remus – what –?” He looked around him. “Where is everyone?”  
  
As Harry grabbed Remus’s arm, Hermione cleared her throat. Harry knew she was much calmer than either he or Remus could hope to be, but even she sounded shaky.  
  
“Sirius,” she said, her voice firm, but kind. “It is very important that you listen to me.”  
  
Of course, Harry thought. If he _is_ Sirius, she needs to calm him down. This must be terrible for him.  But if he isn’t –  
  
“Where is everyone?” The man who looked like Sirius repeated. “The battle – Bellatrix – Harry, are you all right?” he asked suddenly, and Harry heard himself swallow audibly.  
  
“Sirius,” Hermione tried again. “Please listen. Something happened here, during the battle, and we’re not – that is to say, we can’t be entirely sure that you’re you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
It came out as no more than a whisper, and Harry felt Remus move forwards, as if on instinct. He tightened his grip on the other man’s arm, and Remus half-turned to him, nodding, and stayed where he was.  
  
“Look behind you,” Hermione said, and the man turned to look at the veil. “That is the Veil of Passage to the Nether Realms. Have you heard of it?”  
  
Slowly, the black-haired man turned back to her and nodded. He looked scared, lost – but, oh _God_ , he looked _alive_ –  
  
“You fell,” Hermione said quietly. “During the battle. Bellatrix Stunned you and you fell through the veil.”  
  
“I –” The black-haired man cleared his throat. “I’m dead?”  
  
“Not – not, er, necessarily,” Hermione stuttered. “I just called you back from there. If you’re _you_ – if you are Sirius Black – then you are back, and alive.”  
  
Oh God, thought Harry again. Back, and alive. He could not bring himself to believe it, yet.  
  
“How long?” asked the man quietly. “How long ago was the battle?”  
  
“Six years,” said Remus in no more than an undertone, but it carried across the hall.  
  
“Six –” The man blinked, and stumbled a little, and this time it was Remus who gripped Harry’s arm as Harry made an involuntary movement forward.  
  
“I’m sorry, this is a lot to take in,” Hermione said. “If, er, it’s all right with you, I will run a few tests – magical tests – and Harry and Remus will ask you a few questions.”  
  
The man closed his eyes as though steeling himself, took a deep breath, and nodded.  
  
Harry and Remus watched quietly as Hermione ran test after test while the man she had called Sirius stood there with his eyes closed, evidently trying to remain calm. Finally, she turned to them and gave them an encouraging nod. Harry turned to Remus, imploring him without words to make the start.  
  
“I need you to tell me,” Remus said in the direction of the man, though not quite looking at him, “the name we gave our dormitory back at school.”  
  
The man blinked, and for a terrible moment, Harry thought he wasn’t going to reply at all.  
  
“I – I can’t remember,” the man whispered, and he looked scared.  
  
“It’s all right,” said Remus, his voice breaking. “I know the Dementors took a lot. Try.”  
  
“Wait – was it the batcave?” said the man.  
  
Remus gave a small sigh of relief, nodded and turned to Harry.  
  
“Er... right,” Harry said, and for some reason the other man looked at him in surprise. For a moment, he couldn’t think of any of the questions he’d prepared. Out of despair, he ended up asking the most rubbish one. “Can you – er – tell me the names of my relatives at Privet Drive?”  
  
More than anything else that followed, it was the way Sirius scowled darkly as he pronounced the names of Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley that really convinced Harry that this was his godfather.  
  
“I can’t think of any more questions,” Remus admitted after they had asked a fair number of them, with correct replies every time.  
  
“Nor me,” said Harry.  
  
For a second, they stood there, without anyone saying a word. Then Sirius moved forward in one swift motion and hugged Harry. Harry could not speak.  
  
“Six years,” muttered Sirius into his shoulder.  
  
“Sirius...” Harry’s voice was muffled as his face pressed into the dark cloth of Sirius’s cloak.  
  
“Your voice,” said Sirius. “It’s changed so much.” He let go of him, holding him at arm’s length. “Blimey, Harry. You’re _twenty-one_.” And grinning suddenly, he embraced him again.  
  
Harry felt and saw his own eyes swimming with tears. “I’m sorry, Sirius. We should have got you back sooner...”  
  
“Sorry?” Sirius said, letting go of him. “ _I’m_ sorry – you’ve been on your own all this time – well, you did have –” And as he turned to Remus, Harry did too, and saw Remus looking at Sirius as he had never, in Harry’s memory, looked at anyone else.  
  
Sirius moved to embrace Remus, and Harry looked on as they clung onto each other for dear life.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the day had passed in a blur. They’d somehow made it out of the Ministry without being detected (they hadn’t exactly cleared this with the authorities, even though the latter were much more likely to listen ever since Kingsley Shacklebolt had become Minister for Magic); they had all gone to Remus’s house and probably sat there and talked for hours, Remus couldn’t quite remember. At some point in the evening, Harry and Hermione had both gone home, Harry promising he would be back first thing in the morning, and Remus and Sirius had sat and talked some more, and...  
  
No, that was really all he could remember.  
  
Remus stopped in the act of making breakfast, having heard distinct sounds from upstairs of someone getting up.  
  
(He hadn’t quite managed to stop himself checking, this morning, that Sirius was actually alive and sleeping in his guest room, and had left some clothes and toiletries next to his friend’s bed. By the sound of it, Sirius was now taking a bath.)  
  
_Sirius_. Sirius was _here_ , and he was taking a _bath_.  
  
Remus shook his head, gripping the tabletop. He was going to have to pull himself together. This whole not-having-been-in-the-world-for-six-years thing was going to be hard enough for Sirius without Remus being completely useless around him.  
  
He frowned as he starting preparing the eggs and bacon. Was it his imagination or had Harry looked at him rather knowingly last night?  
  
“Morning.”  
  
He jumped.  
  
“Sorry,” said Sirius, standing in the kitchen doorway and looking sheepish. “Thought I’d made enough noise.”  
  
“Right,” Remus said apologetically. “Lost in thoughts. Might do that for a bit longer.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Sirius grinned. “That smells amazing. I haven’t had one of Moony’s special cooked breakfasts in ages. Can’t wait.”  
  
Remus took a moment to remember that ages, for Sirius, meant a few weeks. He tried to remember the last time he’d made breakfast back when they’d been hauled up at Grimmauld Place. It felt like another life. In a way, it was.  
  
“Well, sit yourself down, then. Actually, no, can you make the coffee?”  
  
And just like that, they were back to an old routine.  
  
“Thanks for the clothes,” Sirius said when they’d been eating in companionable silence (only a little awkward now) for a while. “Your shirts didn’t use to fit me.”  
  
“Yeah, we’ll need to fatten you up,” said Remus, trying to sound casual as he surveyed Sirius’s slim figure over the rim of his cup.  
  
“Wish we could do the same with you,” Sirius retorted.  
  
“Lost cause, you know that.” Remus could eat as much as he liked – and he often did – and sometimes even put on a few pounds, but it would always be gone after the next full moon.  
  
“Hm,” Sirius assented. “So, er. What are you doing these days?”  
  
For a full three seconds, they looked at each other. Then both burst out laughing.  
  
“Been practising small talk, I see.”  
  
“Yeah, one of my best subjects in the Nether Realms.”  
  
A little further down the line, they did manage to broach some serious subjects, and Remus told Sirius about his work with young Squibs and, now, werewolves, until Harry arrived.  
  


* * *

  
Sirius blinked slowly into the sun which had just deigned to appear from behind a cloud.  
  
He was in Remus’s back garden, reading – trying to read – one of Remus’s books, randomly chosen from his friend’s extensive library. He was in an armchair he’d dragged outside (his wand hadn’t come back with him; he’d have to get a new one at some point). It was early March and still quite chilly, so he had a blanket draped across his lap.  
  
And all the time in the world to himself, it felt like.  
  
Sirius breathed slowly in and out. It was still a bit dream-like, this state. The war was over. His godson and his best friend had aged six years overnight, so-to-speak, and he could see the ravages of war clearly written on their faces; they had lost many good people, including Dumbledore, which was still hard to believe.  
  
But the war was over.  
  
Peter was dead, and Sirius’s name had been cleared. Posthumously.  
  
He was free.  
  
They hadn’t worked out yet how to tell the wizarding world that he was not, in fact, dead. But all of this for another day. For now, enjoying the early spring sunlight, the tentative birdsong, the first leaves... and the knowledge that he was here, and finally free... were all that mattered. Sirius couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been this happy.  
  
A sharp intake of breath to his left made him spin around in his armchair.  
  
“Um,” said the tall, well-built, confident-looking Muggle who was standing in Remus’s garden as though he had every right to be here.  
  
“Er,” Sirius replied as the man looked him up and down. His gaze seemed to linger on his clothes – Remus’s clothes – especially.  
  
“I was looking for Remus,” said the man.  
  
“He’s out,” said Sirius, getting up. “Teaching. Back at six, I think.”  
  
They stared at each other.  
  
“I don’t think we’ve met,” said the other man. “I’m Andrew.”  
  
Andrew? Andrew Who? Remus certainly hadn’t mentioned anyone called Andrew during the last four days. Let alone a man who came looking for him in his back garden. Had he?  
  
“Sirius,” he said and held out his hand. Andrew took it, seemingly automatically, although he looked rather astonished. Sirius couldn’t help noticing that his gaze kept traveling between his face and his clothes.  
  
“I thought you were dead,” Andrew said bluntly.  
  
“Er. Yeah. Long story.”  
  
“I see.” Andrew swallowed. “Right, well, I’ll just... get in touch with him later then.”  
  
“Do you want me to give him a message?”  
  
“No, that’s fine,” said the man, looking like he wanted nothing more than to get out of Sirius’s sight. “I’ll call him.” And he was gone.  
  
Sirius sat back down slowly, contemplating the rhododendron on the far side of the garden and the way his forehead seemed to have permanently creased into a frown.


	4. Chapter 4

“So, er... it worked,” Harry concluded. “He’s back.”  
  
Incredulous faces and mutterings all around the table. To his annoyance, he saw Molly lean forward to look at Remus for confirmation. Arthur was covering his mouth with his hands; Ron and George were just staring at him.  
  
Kingsley was the first to speak. To Harry’s amusement, _he_ mainly addressed Hermione, who had helped Harry explain; and who was, of course, a far higher authority by now. “I’m assuming you checked all the loopholes.”  
  
Hermione nodded eagerly. She still looked like a student, anxious to do well. “I ran every magical test I could think of,” she said and rattled them off. Kingsley looked impressed. “And Harry and Remus asked him many questions that only he could have known the answers to.”  
  
“So where is he?” asked Tonks. They’d invited her, too, as member of the old Order, and of course as Sirius’s cousin. She was sitting next to Remus.  
  
Harry suddenly remembered how, years ago, Molly and Alison Granger had speculated on those two being more than friends, had actually even fancied themselves matchmakers.  
  
He sometimes thought that was the only reason Remus, a fiercely private person, had finally relented and introduced everyone to his boyfriend.  
  
“My place,” said Remus. “I could go fetch him.” He cast a questioning glance at Harry.  
  
“All this time he’s been at your _house_ ,” Molly said, sounding thunderstruck.  
  
“It’s only been ten days,” he shrugged, smiling slightly. “Hardly feels like any time at all.”  
  
Remus, a fiercely private person, Harry thought. He’d done a good job of retreating back into that persona during the last ten days. But Harry wouldn’t forget the Remus at the Department of Mysteries, and during those first few days after Sirius’s return. And sometimes, when Remus looked at him, he still saw it.  
  
Remus went and fetched Sirius, and as they came around the corner of the house, and everyone gasped, and Tonks ran to hug Sirius first, all Harry could think was how natural Remus and Sirius looked standing side by side.  


* * *

  
It took Sirius leaving Remus’s place and settling into his new flat to finally get introduced to the mysterious Muggle.  
  
He hadn’t really wanted to move out. They’d spent three great weeks together, including one full moon which they both spent in Remus’s cellar, Remus safe with the Wolfsbane Potion, Sirius reading to him for a few hours, then spending the rest of the night as Padfoot, wolf and dog sleeping not quite intertwined, but very close together.  
  
It was just like old times – and yet, there were those nights Remus didn’t spend at home without explaining himself much, and Sirius knew where he went, and found himself not liking being on his own.  
  
After Sirius had found a flat and moved in with three books and five shirts, the Andrew-presenting business was done very informally one night in a pub. Remus, who probably thought he was keeping a perfectly straight face, nevertheless looked nervous to Sirius.  
  
To Sirius’s dismay, it looked like Andrew clocked on to this too (he smiled fondly at Remus and patted his hand as it shook ever so slightly).  
  
They’d been together for a while, then.  
  
Sirius and Andrew, by some unspoken agreement, both pretended they’d never met, and both seemed to go out of their way to be nice to each other.  
  
“So how are you settling in?” asked Andrew. “It’s got to be bloody difficult after all this time. Remus told me what happened.”  
  
Sirius raised his eyebrows in the direction of his old friend. “What, all of it?”  
  
Remus shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Special permit from the Ministry to talk magical matters with him.”  
  
“Ah.” That was granted, of course, when one applied for it and convincingly stated that the Muggle in question (a) was no blabbermouth and (b) would be around for a while.  
  
Blimey.  
  
“Anyway,” Sirius said, forcing himself to give Andrew a small smile. “Yeah, it’s not easy. Still taking my time to get reacquainted with everything. Lots of things have changed. I mean, computers are way smaller now.”  
  
“Right,” Andrew grinned. “You use computers, then?”  
  
“Sirius has always been very interested in Muggle technology,” said Remus, smiling. “Never actually had a computer, though, did you?”  
  
“No, but I’d like one.”  
  
“I can help you get one if you like,” said Andrew. “Oh! You won’t even know the internet. Lots of new things in store for you, mate.”  
  
And so the rest of the evening went by in a very cordial (and only slightly fake-cordial) fashion.  


* * *

  
Harry had long suspected that Ron resented his brother George getting a job at the Ministry. It wasn’t as though Ron had actively sought to get there himself; in fact, he always claimed he’d got his dream job managing the Chudley Cannons.  
  
But George getting into the Ministry seemed to bring home – well, first of all, that Fred was gone and George had resolutely turned his back on Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and anything connected to them. And second of all, Harry knew, it made Ron feel like he was the family’s underachiever, even though Ginny was still working at a shop, trying to figure out what she wanted in life. But she was Ron’s little sister and therefore didn’t quite enter into the equation, Harry thought.  
  
The great, inevitable falling-out occurred at the annual Ministry summer ball.  
  
They were all there, of course, grouped in the massive Atrium: Harry, Hermione, Arthur and Percy because they worked there, Ginny, Ron, Molly and Penelope as their respective partners, and for the first time, George and his girlfriend Zadie.  
  
“So, Sirius _Black_ ,” Mafalda was saying to Harry, who’d only been half-listening while gazing across the hall at the bloke from Magical Accidents and Catastrophes (how appropriate) talking to Ginny.  
  
Ginny looked over and gave him a little wave, and Harry smiled.  
  
“He’s back,” Mafalda tried again, and Harry resolved to give her his full attention.  
  
“Yes,” he said. There was no need to give her any details; she’d read the full report he and Hermione had written up (and apologized for many times since).  
  
Mafalda pursed her lips, looking severe. “And how is he?” (There was a definite undertone of ‘after that ordeal you’ve clearly put him through with no help from proper grown-ups?’)  
  
“He’s fine. Still settling in, you know. He’s missed a lot.” It was tough, trying to find the right words that didn’t leave any space for speculation. The last thing he wanted was for Sirius, as soon as he ventured back out into the wizarding world, to be met with hostility or mistrust. “He was devastated to hear about Dumbledore.”  
  
“As were we all,” Mafalda sighed, her tone softening somewhat.  
  
“Ah, hello Mafalda.” Arthur, with Molly and his two sons in tow, looking like they meant to rescue Harry. “Nice party, eh?”  
  
“I like the music,” said Mafalda non-committally. “Hello, Molly, nice to see you.”  
  
“Hullo, Mafalda, dear. That’s a lovely dress. Have you met George?” Harry suddenly had a sense of foreboding. His mother-in-law’s strongest suit was definitely _not_ tact. “He’s just started working at the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”  
  
“Oh, yes, of course. How are you settling in?” Mafalda shook hands with George, who dutifully engaged in some small-talk with her. How much he had changed, Harry thought. He was still one hell of a trouble-maker when he wanted to be, of course. But he’d grown up, as well.  
  
“And this is Ron, of course,” Molly added.  
  
“Do you work at the Ministry too?” asked Mafalda.  
  
“Ron manages the Chudley Cannons,” said George, slapping his brother on the back. “Excellent Quidditch team, you know. I suppose he’s my man on the field, now.”  
  
“Ah,” said Mafalda, smiled politely at Ron, and then engaged Arthur in some discussion about a new regulation on Muggle mobile phones.  
  
Harry took one look at Ron’s purpling face and excused himself. He found Ginny by the bar, miraculously without tall, blond men.  
  
“What are you having?” He snaked one arm around her waist.  
  
“I was thinking gin and tonic.”  
  
“Make that two,” Harry said to the waiter, who nodded.  
  
“God, it’s nice not to be breastfeeding anymore.” She clinked her glass with his.  
  
“It’s been almost a year,” Harry smiled.  
  
“I know, but it bears repeating,” she grinned.  
  
“Do you reckon Lily will sleep through the night?”  
  
And off they were into a very domestic conversation which Harry hadn’t known, two years ago, he would enjoy so much.  
  
“Brian told me a frightening thing,” Ginny said finally.  
  
“Brian? Remind me...” Harry said, pretending to cast around in his mind for a face to match the name.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. “You know. Brian. From Magical Accidents.”  
  
“Oh, Brian!” Harry said. “Chats you up at every bloody Ministry do? That Brian?”  
  
“Shut up.” She punched his arm playfully. “Anyway, Brian told me he’d overheard some bloke at Magical Law Enforcement talking to some woman at Mysteries about a new anti-Muggle law.” She shrugged. “Or maybe he was just trying to impress me.”  
  
Harry frowned. “Well, he was that. But he’s also not wrong.”  
  
It was too early, far too early for these ugly snakes to rear their heads again. And yet here they were, in their midst.  
  
He supposed it was a lifelong struggle, in the end, fighting against bigots.  
  
“Of all the bloody nerve!” George interrupted their musings.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked.  
  
“Ron! He fucking insulted me right in front of my boss! Told me I was turning into a stuck-up Ministry twat and that I’d better leave the real sports to ‘his man on the field’, air quotes included, whatever the bloody hell that means! Harry, can’t you talk to him?”  
  
Harry sighed. That, too, was going to be a lifelong struggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, definitely strayed from post-books canon here, namely concerning the jobs all the different characters got after school...  
> Just feels more appropriate for my own little universe. :)  
> Next chapter should be up soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius still couldn’t quite believe how much Harry had grown up.  
  
Not _literally_ grown up – Harry was now the same height as James had been, so no surprises there. Nor was it the way Harry seemed to manage everyday life effortlessly. (He was married, he was a dad to a nearly-two-year-old, he worked at the Ministry...)  
  
No, what surprised him most was how eminently sensible Harry was. The last time Sirius had seen him, he’d been a damaged, hot-tempered teenager. Now he seemed to give advice to his friends on a regular basis and didn’t seem at all shy about communicating his opinions.  
  
It was a little frightening, actually. Harry was more of an adult than James had ever had the chance to be – and more, really, than Sirius had ever been.  
  
He helped Sirius get a new wand at Tuppence’s (the new Ollivander’s) without Sirius having to go into Diagon Alley; Harry went instead, explained the situation to the owner, and Sirius Flooed in directly while the shop was ‘closed for lunch’.  
  
He helped Sirius get a new flat in London, looking through Muggle ads, accompanying him on visits and even negociating details. He definitely knew better than Sirius how to navigate these waters.  
  
He also appeared to have a clearer idea than Sirius about what was going on with him and Remus.  
  
One afternoon, they sat in a Muggle café in Hackney, close to Sirius’s new flat, having a cup of coffee and looking at oddly-dressed Muggles walking past (even Harry looked surprised at the new fashions) when Harry said, “I hear you’ve met Andrew.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sirius said. “Seems all right.”  
  
He frowned, and asked in what he hoped was a casual manner, “Remus told you about that, did he?”  
  
Harry nodded. “He said he hadn’t really seen you since.”  
  
“Ah.” Sirius swirled his coffee. “Was he er... did he seem annoyed?”  
  
Harry gave him an odd little smile. “No, he said it like it wasn’t anything unusual.”  
  
The words sent a pang through Sirius, and he tried not to wince.  
  
“Which I’ve got to admit is a little funny after seeing you two practically living in symbiosis for a month,” Harry added. “So now you’ve moved out, you’re both going your separate ways, huh?”  
  
Sirius shrugged, avoiding Harry’s gaze. “Well, you know. He’s got a boyfriend and a job and everything. I don’t want to be in the way. And I’ve got a lot of catching up with the world to do.” He looked up.  
  
Harry was leaning back in his armchair, his arms folded, his eyes clearly saying ‘biggest load of shite I’ve heard in ages’.  
  
“What?” asked Sirius defensively.  
  
Harry just shook his head.  
  
Sirius sighed. “It’s complicated, you know?”  
  
“It’s not really that complicated.”  
   
And as though he were godfather and Sirius godson, Harry gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze and smiled at him indulgently.  


* * *

  
It was probably for two reasons that Remus didn’t sense anything amiss at the Werewolf Registry.  
  
Well, three. The third being that he hadn’t been here in a while, and just assumed that the staff and visitors had always been this much on edge. (It turned out afterwards that many of the younger werewolves, including his student Robert, had sensed that something was about to happen.)  
  
The other two reasons were his recent conversation with Harry, and the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about Sirius.  
  
He smiled absent-mindedly at Robert and his mother. He was accompanying them on their latest check-up at the Ministry, compulsory for minors every six months.  
  
It was ridiculous how much he missed Sirius. The man had only moved out a month ago. They’d seen each other twice since then; once, to get some furniture from Grimmauld Place and transport it to the flat; the other time, to meet Andrew. But that last meeting had been Friday two weeks ago, and Remus hadn’t really gone through a single day since without imagining what Sirius was doing right now.  
  
It was so unfair to Andy, who was a great guy. (And gorgeous. And clever – clever enough to have noticed something, of course.)  
  
And yet... How did you stop yourself from falling in love again with someone you’d already fallen for years and years back?  
  
Andrew wasn’t the only one who’d noticed something. When had Harry become so perceptive? Well, he’d always been that, really. But he was even better at it now, with all the pain of the war behind him and a bright future before him...  
  
The last time he’d seen Harry, the boy had practically ordered him to check up on Sirius, and had only tutted impatiently when Remus suggested that Sirius might want some time to himself to settle in.  
  
In fact, Harry had said, “Just like Ron and Hermione at school. Story of my life,” and rolled his eyes.  
  
Remus was smiling at the memory ( _so_ much like Lily) when the bomb went off.

* * *

  
It was like a bad dream, running into the Ministry again, heedless of any rules or warnings. Like a bad dream from two months ago – except that, of course, six years had passed in the real world.  
  
The afternoon had started out in a totally mundane way: Sirius had been getting a haircut from Molly Weasley. Twenty minutes in, he was already regretting not going to a Muggle shop (after all, he’d moved into a flat in Muggle London and found that they had well forgotten his face by now).  
  
Molly was chatting away and dropping hints of wanting to fix him up with some girl or other soon, and he was doing his best to ignore it and be grateful to her for the service she was doing him and for her general niceness –  
  
– when Percy appeared in the fireplace and curtly informed his mother that ‘the family were all fine’ and that ‘she would soon hear more’.  
  
Molly dropped the scissors and was clearly about to demand more information when Percy, noticing Sirius, added, “Harry is safe, too. I’ve seen him and he was nowhere near the Werewolf Registry at the time of the attack.”  
  
“The Werewolf Registry?” Sirius jumped out of his chair, and Molly gasped.  
  
“Percy, darling, can you find out if Remus is all right?” she asked, and Percy nodded and disappeared –  
  
– but Sirius had already Disapparated at this point.  
  
He knew the way in, still, from the last time, through that one crack in the sewer below Whitehall, and he was already down on Level Three when the whole place was locked down.  
  
‘Werewolf Registry, Werewolf Registry,’ he muttered to himself, striding along the corridors, mostly being taken no notice of as everyone appeared to be hurrying somewhere or other; some people stared at him as he rushed past, but he ignored them. Ah! Yes, now he remembered: the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was on Level Four.  
  
Actually, if he’d been looking around him properly, that would have been pretty obvious: little paper aeroplanes and notice birds were fluttering all around them, signalling and chirping that Level Four was being closed off and that everyone should head upstairs.  
  
Sirius stopped where he stood and took a long, searching look around. Finally, he spotted two women and one man who could only be Aurors by the looks of them, heading towards a door at the far end of the corridor.  
  
He followed them, skirting a few orderlies, and ran down the staircase after them. It was surprisingly easy to follow them to the Werewolf Registry without being stopped; the place was still in utter chaos.  
  
The Aurors charged through the door, passing a group of people standing outside it who demanded what was going on and asked after their relatives; Sirius ignored them and strode forward, wand out, when he was suddenly pulled backwards.  
  
He whirled around. Harry stood in front of him, looking very white, but resolute. “Let the Aurors sort it out,” he said, gripping Sirius’s shoulders.  
  
“He’s in there, Harry,” Sirius croaked. “He told me he was taking his student here today. I know he’s in there.”  
  
“You’ll only cause more chaos,” said Harry in a calm, measured voice. “People will recognize you, and they won’t all remember right away that your name was cleared.”  
  
The people outside with them were already staring at him in fear, Sirius dimly registered. A lot of pointing and whispering was going on behind Harry, who was blocking Sirius’s way to the entrance of the Werewolf Registry.  
  
“But –”  
  
“Give me five minutes, Sirius,” Harry urged. “Please.”  
  
Sirius gritted his teeth. Finally, he nodded, and Harry squeezed his arm briefly and was gone.  
  
It felt like an eternity – and yet, no more than five minutes had probably passed when Remus emerged, being supported by a Healer. A kid of ten years or so and a woman who must be his mother were led out by another Healer.  
  
Sirius hurried forward as Remus was lowered into a chair and examined by the Healer. There was a large gash on his forehead, and he was convulsed in what looked like terrible pain in his abdomen.  
  
“Stand back, please,” the Healer commanded, then gave a double-take when she looked at Sirius properly.  
  
“Is he all right?” Sirius asked in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own.  
  
“I’ll be fine, Sirius,” Remus groaned, and Sirius sat next to him, taking one of his trembling hands in his.  
  
“What happened?” he asked quietly.  
  
“Bomb,” Remus said in a weak voice. Then, he craned his neck towards his student. “Robert –”  
  
“The boy is fine,” snapped the Healer, who pushed Remus back into his chair as she spoke (and somehow managed to cast a spell at the same time). “Just shock. Looks like you and your wife shielded him. You’re worse off than he is. Sit _still_.”  
  
Remus directed a weak smile in Sirius’s direction, no doubt amused at having been cast in the role of the boy’s father.  
  
“Nice haircut,” he said.  
  
Sirius smiled and squeezed his hand. It had stopped trembling.  
  
“There,” the Healer said after what felt like an age, leaning back and studying him. “Pain in your abdomen and legs should be better now?”  
  
“Gone,” Remus nodded, rubbing his stomach. “Crikey. What _was_ that?”  
  
“Blastonator, I bet,” said the other Healer, a young man, who was still bending over Robert’s mother.  
  
Remus’s Healer gave him a stern look. “We heal, Farren, we do not speculate. Up to the Aurors to investigate that one now.”  
  
Sirius sat back, his heart hammering in his chest. Fucking hell. Blastonator – they’d really been out to kill, whoever they were.  
  
When Remus had assured himself that Robert and his mother were fine and the situation at the Ministry was well in hand, Sirius took Remus home, sat him down in an armchair with a wet cloth on his still aching forehead and a cup of tea in his hand.  
  
“I don’t get why we were taken outside so quickly,” Remus mused as Sirius sat by his side, refreshing the cloth every now and then and holding it to Remus’s head. (If Remus allowed himself to be coddled like this, it meant he wasn’t doing very well yet.)  
  
“Everyone else I saw was still inside,” Remus added.  
  
“Er.” Sirius cleared his throat. “That might have been my doing.”  
  
Remus opened an eye. “You got in?”  
  
“No, Harry made me wait outside. He seemed to think I would cause a stampede if I turned up on the scene.”  
  
Remus snorted. “And you obeyed?”  
  
Sirius shrugged. “Harry said he’d get you out in five minutes.”  
  
Remus laughed and shook his head. “Sirius...”  
  
“I waited for five minutes, didn’t I? Pretty good considering my record.” He smiled, but Remus was giving him an odd look, so he looked away.  
  
The sound of a key turning in the lock briefly surprised him until he realized that, yes, of course, Andrew must have a key by now.  
  
“Andy,” said Remus as Andrew rushed forward. Sirius lowered the cloth he’d still been holding to Remus’s head and moved away to give them some space.  
  
“Are you all right?” asked the other man and kissed Remus.  
  
“I’m fine. How did you know?”  
  
“Gas explosion near Downing Street, they said on the news,” said the Muggle, “I just thought I’d come check if you were all right.”  
  
“Sorry,” Remus sighed, taking Andrew’s hand. “We only just got back. I was going to call you in a minute.”  
  
Andrew nodded. “Thank God you’re okay. What happened?” He turned to Sirius, who was still sitting on the sofa a little way away, studying the far-off wall.  
  
They explained about the attack on the Werewolf Registry, adding that they didn’t know who or why yet. Andrew shuddered.  
  
“Well, I should get going,” Sirius said, “you’ve got someone to look after you now,” and he gestured and smiled at Andrew in what he hoped was a friendly way.  
  
Andrew caught up with him in the hall before he left.  
  
“Is there anything I should know about?”  
  
“What?” Sirius turned to stare at him.  
  
“About the magic,” said Andrew. “Is he all right? Is there anything... I dunno... that he needs to take or something?”  
  
“Oh.” Sirius swallowed, then shook his head. “No, he was seen to by a Healer. Er, magic doctor sort of thing. He’ll be fine. Just needs to rest now.”  
  
Andrew nodded, then shook his hand. “Thanks for looking after him.”  
  
Sirius found that he was still shaking his head as he moved back towards the door. “No need to thank me. Hey, let me know if anything’s the matter, all right? I’ve got a phone.”  
  
And he gave his number to the one man he really wished didn’t exist.


	6. Chapter 6

Sirius felt like he’d done fairly well so far at his first official outing: he’d been incredibly soft-spoken and polite, hadn’t made any rash movements or any untoward comments that might convince people he was, after all, a mass murderer.  
  
And, speaking of which, he hadn’t murdered Andrew yet, either.  
  
What the fuck was wrong with him? Well, he knew, really. He’d finally found the answer the other night at the bottom of a bottle of whisky.  
  
But why couldn’t he just be a better person, forget about his own feelings, because he was clearly two years too late at least, and Remus was happy, and he should just fucking get over it.  
  
But, really, it was insufferable how perfect this Andrew bloke was.  
  
“Andrew, this is such a lovely gift, thank you!” Ginny held up a set of wooden letter blocks –probably painted and engraved by hand, Sirius thought. “Lily will love these!”  
  
“Well, two’s a little early,” Andrew smiled, “but she can always play with them until she starts reading. I hear she’s really good at building houses.”  
  
Ginny smiled and hugged him. Remus was also smiling at Andrew in a fond way.  
  
Harry was looking at Sirius, who looked away quickly, studying his surroundings instead.   
  
Lily Potter’s second birthday had coincided with the kindergarten’s annual summer do, so her parents had decided to just have the party there. This meant, of course, lots of people Sirius knew, and lots of people who appeared either very eager to talk to him and assure him they’d always thought he was innocent, or very eager to stand in a far corner and eye him curiously.  
  
Again: he thought he was doing rather well considering the circumstances.  
  
He discussed the attack on the Werewolf Registry with Kingsley Shacklebolt, and he was gratified to note that Kingsley readily shared inside information with him again, as the Minister explained in hushed tones that it had been a part-inside job, involving a man from Magical Law Enforcement (apparently, Hermione was furious with herself for not having known this) and a woman from Mysteries. They didn’t know what their motives had been yet, but Sirius could guess.  
  
He watched the kids playing Quidditch, sat through a common lunch with Ella Fickleworthy babbling into his left ear, and watched yet another game of Quidditch (parents this time) on the front lawn.  
  
He watched Ron and George navigating the area with the obvious intent of keeping the greatest possible distance between them at all times.  
  
He most decidedly did not watch Remus and Andrew having an argument at one corner of the lawn and Andrew leaving in a huff.  
  
“What’s going on with Ron and George?” he asked Harry when it was finally just the two of them standing by the kindergarten’s extensive playground. “Is it just me or aren’t they talking?”  
  
Harry sighed. “Not just you. They had a really stupid fight and now neither of them will swallow their pride and bury the hatchet.” He shrugged. “They’ve all got a bit of a temper on them, those Weasleys.”  
  
“You married one,” Sirius pointed out, smiling.  
  
“Yeah, and the loudest one at that,” Harry grinned. “But also the most reasonable one, actually.”  
  
“And the prettiest,” remarked Remus from behind them. They turned, and Remus shrugged, smiling. “I mean, I’m not an expert...”  
  
After a bit of inconsequential small talk, Sirius went to talk to Arthur.  
  


* * *

  
_“Expelliarmus!”_   
  
Before either of them could react, Remus’s and Sirius’s wands flew out of their pockets into Harry’s hand.  
  
 _“Harry!”_  
  
Remus took a step towards him and stopped short when Harry pointed his wand at him.  
  
They were in the shed behind the kindergarten, where Harry had just convened them both ‘to talk’. However, no sooner had Remus’s former student closed the door behind them than he had confiscated both their wands.  
  
“I’m sorry about this,” Harry said. He didn’t look sorry at all, but rather a strange mixture of annoyed and determined. It was a combination Remus had learned to fear in the younger man.  
  
“But,” Harry continued, “I am sick and tired of you two avoiding each other. We’ve lost so many people, and now even the ones that survived are drifting apart – for God’s sake, we only just got him back, Remus.”  
  
Remus felt his cheeks redden as Harry looked at him intently.  
  
“So, well...” Harry cleared his throat. “I’m going to lock you two in, and whatever issues you two have with each other, you’re going to work them out.”  
  
And without another word, he disappeared, locking the door behind him.  
  
There was a stunned silence.  
  
“What the fuck’s got into him?”   
  
Sirius strode to the door and pulled. It looked like it was well and truly locked. He turned to frown at Remus. “Where does he get _that_ from?”  
  
Remus, too, tried the door, and sighed when it didn’t give. “He’s an explosive combination of Lily and James. And, you know, eleven years with the Dursleys.”  
  
“Yeah.” Sirius looked out the small window. “So when do you reckon he’s going to let us out?”  
  
Remus noticed they were still avoiding talking about what Harry had said. When _would_ he let them out? Would he get some sort of notification if they –  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Remus joined him by the window, frowning. Ron and Ginny were watching Lily playing catch with the other kids, while Hermione and Kingsley (whose three-year-old was also running around squealing) were in what looked like an earnest discussion. Well, when were they ever not?  
  
“Hermione. She was talking about the different kinds of control you can exert over an object the other day, and now that I come to think of it, Harry was really interested.”  
  
“What do you mean, control over an object?”  
  
“Like over a lock. I specifically remember her mentioning that. That you could lock a door and have it unlock only under certain conditions.”  
  
Sirius, always quick on the uptake, straightened his back. “What, so we’re locked in till...”  
  
“We ‘work out whatever issues we have’. I will bet you anything that’s what he did.”  
  
Sirius swallowed, looked at Remus, then strode to the far corner of the shed, studying the contents of the shelves.  
  
Remus stood by the window, a good three feet away from him, and for a while they both stared into space.  
  
“You know, he’s not wrong,” Remus said after a while. “You _have_ been avoiding me.”  
  
Sirius said nothing. The clock above the door was ticking more loudly with every passing second. Once or twice Remus opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind at the last minute. Sirius looked very much like he was going through the same thing.  
  
Finally, their eyes met, and Sirius sighed. “This is rubbish. Us. Not able to talk to each other properly.”  
  
“Yeah.” Remus sighed. “When did that happen?”  
  
For some reason, Sirius smiled wryly, but didn’t say anything.  
  
Remus cleared his throat and tried the door again.  
  
“I think I can pinpoint the exact moment, actually.”  
  
Remus turned around. “What?”  
  
“When we stopped talking. Or when it became hard for me, at least, to talk to you.” Sirius was staring at a little toy shovel he’d picked up, turning it over and over in his hand.  
  
“When was that then?”  
  
“The day I sat in your garden and Andrew came around the corner... and gave me a very territorial look.” Sirius was still avoiding Remus’s gaze. “And I didn’t exactly make a huge effort to dissuade him from the notion that... well.” He looked up. “That you and I were an item.”  
  
Remus sat down on the chair in the corner, attempting the impossible feat of breathing and appearing nonchalant.   
  
“Right. It took a while to explain that one to him. After he’d finally told me that the two of you had actually met before that night in the pub.”  
  
“Sorry.” Sirius’s gaze was still on him, earnest, searching. Then he smiled slightly. “I guess Andrew’s not the only one who’s got territorial feelings when it comes to you.”  
  
Remus breathed in and out as Sirius’s words hung in the air like a sweet-smelling perfume: the promise of spring.  
  
“Territorial feelings,” he repeated because he wasn’t quite sure what that meant. Also, he didn’t trust himself to string together more than two words at a time.  
  
“Yeah.” Sirius said, looking like he was steeling himself.  
  
“I know I’m like a thousand years late to the party,” he finally said in a low voice. “But I’ve realized that I don’t like the thought of you going out with anyone, who’s, well – ”  
  
He faltered, and finally: “– not me.”  
  
Remus stared at him, and Sirius lowered his eyes to the ground.   
  
“Funny,” Sirius said after a while. “I thought that was why _you_ were avoiding _me_. Because you’d seen that.”  
  
Remus shook his head.   
  
Sirius looked rather embarrassed.  
  
“I think Andrew has, though,” Remus said. He was amazed at how calm his own voice sounded. “Explains a lot of the semi-fighting we’ve been doing lately, actually.”  
  
“Sorry.” Sirius winced. “I’ll stay out of your way, obviously. You two are great together. I wouldn’t want to –”  
  
“Sirius.” Remus hesitated, then went to stand before Sirius, taking the other man’s hand and placing it on his neck so that Sirius could feel his racing pulse.  
  
When Sirius’s eyes widened slightly, Remus knew he’d understood the message.  
  
“But – Andrew –” said Sirius.  
  
“Andrew,” said Remus quietly, “noticed long ago that he’s no match for you.”  
  
“Oh,” Sirius managed.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
They stood like this for a long while, Sirius’s fingers still on Remus’s pulse, Remus’s right hand around Sirius’s left.  
  
“Do you reckon the door’s open now?” Sirius said, and they burst out laughing.   
  
Remus was still holding Sirius’s hand, and he drew the other man towards him gently. Cupping the side of his face with his other hand, he kissed him, tentatively at first. When Sirius opened his lips ever so slightly, he deepened the kiss, and he sighed as Sirius wrapped him in his arms and kissed him back enthusiastically.  
  


* * *

  
“Hold on,” Ginny said, drawing Harry back from the shed; he’d just been meaning to check whether his hostages were all right.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“You, er, don’t want to go in there just now,” she said vaguely.  
  
He narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”  
  
They both looked towards the playground when they heard Lily shriek with laughter. Smiling in an absent-minded way, Ginny said in a casual tone, “Well, Sirius and Remus are in there, and er... I think they need some privacy.”  
  
Harry frowned at her. “How do you know they’re in there?”  
  
She mirrored his frown. “Well, I was looking for Lily’s little wheelbarrow, and I walked in on them.”  
  
“In the shed?”  
  
“Yes, in the shed,” she said, clearly starting to worry about his sanity.  
  
“So it wasn’t locked?”  
  
“No, they must have forgotten,” she said, a small smile playing around her lips.  
  
“Hold on.” Harry started to smile, too. “When you say you walked in on them...”  
  
Ginny looked at him shrewdly. “I did think I might not tell you about it because it could come as a bit of a shock. I mean, they _are_ your godfather and your former teacher... and Remus does have a boyfriend...”  
  
“Ginny. Were they...” He winced a little. “ _Snogging_?”  
  
When she nodded slowly, Harry grinned, and could not quite hold himself back from punching the air.   
  
Ginny crossed her arms. “I am _really_ looking forward to hearing this story.”


	7. Epilogue

Sirius was desperately trying to concentrate on the _Daily Prophet_. He still didn’t understand half of it, but he would surely be up to date soon; he just had to be patient.  
  
Speaking of which, he thought as he reflexively checked the time. Again. Bloody hell. Patience had never been his strongest suit. And now it had officially been an hour. Did people really take that long to break up with each other?  
  
“Like you have so much experience in the matter,” he said and laughed, then frowned because he wondered whether talking to himself would help him to stay sane.  
  
The relationships he’d had at school had sort of trailed off – well, no, except one, which had ended in a resounding slap in the Great Hall, as he now remembered. And the one that had lasted into young adulthood, well... that had been over fairly quickly when she’d suggested taking a leaf out of James and Lily’s book and trying for a baby.  
  
So. No experience to speak of, then. These things presumably took as long as they took. There would be explaining and apologizing and comforting, and Remus was far too nice to just run off.  
  
The trouble was, of course, if Sirius was completely honest with himself (and he usually was), that he couldn’t shake the stupid idea that Remus might change his mind.  
  
He wouldn’t, surely. He couldn’t, judging by the way he’d kissed him last night. Fucking hell. Sirius couldn’t remember ever having been kissed like that.  
  
He looked up at the clock again. No. He had to get out of here. Remus wasn’t very likely to look in on him later anyway, so there was no reason to mope around at home and worry. He would go out and find something to do.  
  
Having wandered the streets aimlessly for a while (not without bumping into a few passersby because he’d been reliving those moments in the shack again), he suddenly realized he’d walked down this particular street with Harry before. Hadn’t his godson recommended the pub on that corner for making a good roast? Maybe he’d check it out and get a beer or two –  
  
“Sirius!”  
  
“I swear I have not been following you,” he grinned, having made his way over to the table where Harry and Ginny were having dinner.  
  
“Sure,” said Ginny as she got up to hug him. “You do know your reputation precedes you, right?”  
  
“Come and have dinner with us,” said Harry, and despite Sirius’s protests, Ginny pulled up a chair and practically forced him into it. When Sirius apologized for disturbing their romantic-couples-night-which-must-be-hard-enough-with-a-toddler, she laughed and said, “Not as hard as you’d think. Mum’s wild about having Lily to herself and it distracts her from nagging Ron about when _he’s_ going to start having kids.”  
  
They spent a while chit-chatting about this and that. Finally, when Sirius’s food arrived, Harry asked, “So what’s Remus up to?” in a would-be casual tone, and Sirius could see that Harry (and Ginny, come to think of it) had been dying to ask that all evening.  
  
“Er,” Sirius said. “Meeting Andrew.”  
  
“Oh! There’s Fauna and her girlfriend! I’ll go say hello.” And just like that, Ginny had expertly exited the stage. Sirius and Harry exchanged a look, and turned around to see if Ginny really had spotted someone.  
  
“Convenient,” Sirius said as they watched Ginny say hello to a tall black girl and a redhead, and Harry gave a little wave as Ginny pointed him out.  
  
“She’s good at convenient,” he grinned and turned back to Sirius. “So. Want to talk about it?”  
  
Sirius leaned back and sighed. “I s’pose.”  
  
“You, er, looked like you’d sorted things out the other day,” Harry said.  
  
Sirius smiled as he remembered him and Remus having to go back to Harry for their wands, like schoolboys who had misbehaved. (Not the first time they’d been in that situation, of course. Never before in front of his godson, however.)  
  
“Yeah. We did.” Sirius saw his smile mirrored on Harry’s face. “He’s meeting Andrew to, well. Break up with him.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
“Yeah.” Sirius took a few more bites, trying to ignore the intent way Harry was looking at him.  
  
“Are you getting cold feet?”  
  
“What?” He looked up. “No! I’m just...” He shrugged. Might as well say it – after all, Harry was much more of an adult friend than a godson, now.  
  
“I guess I’m wondering whether he’ll end up regretting it.” He shrugged and spread his arms wide. “I mean, I don’t know what people have told you, but I’m not much of a catch.”  
  
“I am a hundred percent sure Remus thinks otherwise.”  
  
Sirius grimaced, his eyes on his food. “I’m not. Have you _seen_ perfect Andrew?”  
  
“No, I really mean a hundred percent sure.”  
  
Something in Harry’s voice made Sirius look up, and he followed Harry’s eyes to the door.  
  
Oh.  
  
“Guess I’ll go say hi to Fauna too,” Harry said, his voice full of laughter. Sirius watched as Harry got up, greeted Remus with a brief hug, and made his way over to Ginny and the others. Remus sat down in Harry’s vacated chair.  
  
“Hi.”  
  
“Hi,” Sirius said. He was one breath away from being an awkward teenager.  
  
“You weren’t home, so I used a locator spell,” Remus said, looking slightly sheepish. “I didn’t mean to stalk you or anything.”  
  
“Oh, no,” Sirius said. “I was really only distracting myself.”  
  
Remus gave him a slow smile that made Sirius’s stomach do a small backflip. “Right.”  
  
“How, er, was it?” Sirius swallowed. “If you want to talk about it, that is.”  
  
“It was all right.” Remus shrugged. “He wasn’t surprised.”  
  
“And how are you?” Sirius paused. God, if he was going to embarrass himself, might as well get all of it behind him now. “Not, um. Regretting it, are you?”  
  
“What?” Remus stared at him, then started to laugh. “Is that what you’ve been telling yourself all night?”  
  
“Maybe,” Sirius said, biting his lip. Remus stared at it intently. Then he quickly lifted a hand to Sirius’s mouth, freeing his lower lip, and let his hand linger on Sirius’s cheek for just a second.  
  
“There is no way I will ever regret that,” he said, very seriously. Then he smiled. “Well. Unless you still snore like you did back at school.”  
  
“I did not!” Sirius flung a paper napkin at him, leaned forward to retrieve it, and kissed Remus very briefly on the lips. “ _You_ sigh in your sleep.”  
  
“Only if I’m dreaming of something nice,” Remus said, a twinkle in his eye.  
  
They left the pub pretty soon after that.  
  
Harry waved them off, looking like a proud parent.

 

 

THE END


End file.
